


Take 5

by menagerie



Category: Locke & Key (TV)
Genre: Brother/Sister Incest, Disturbing Themes, Extremely Dubious Consent, F/M, Mind Control, Non-Consensual Spanking, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sibling Incest, Underage Sex, Unsafe Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-29
Updated: 2020-02-29
Packaged: 2021-02-26 13:44:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22936969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/menagerie/pseuds/menagerie
Summary: Tyler hates that his baby sister is playing the role of a prostitute in the Savini's newest film.
Relationships: Kinsey Locke/Tyler Locke
Comments: 8
Kudos: 50





	Take 5

**Author's Note:**

> @slashaddict96 is at least 50% to blame for this one. She said I should take [this picture](https://66.media.tumblr.com/8a6c1a2d1cd38b75c798540a3b65705c/tumblr_og0jznJY7s1vhjoufo1_250.jpg) (warning: very NSFW) and use it as inspo for a Tyler/Kinsey story.
> 
> I enjoyed Locke and Key way more than I thought I would. I don't usually like shows, but this one grabbed me. Netflix better not pull their usual nonsense and cancel it before the next season comes out...
> 
> ** Edit:** I've noticed a few minor errors in this. I wrote the whole thing in a very sleep-deprived state. I'll be sure to fix everything as soon as I can. Please stand by.
> 
> ** Edit # 2:** I fixed all the mistakes that I saw. If you see any other errors, feel free to tell me!

Scot had been feeling twitchy about this scene since he'd written it into the script two weeks prior. Yes, it'd been Kinsey's idea, and sure, she'd gotten a bit stroppy when he'd suggested they try it a different way, but he'd since learned that she'd shanked her own fear and left it for dead like it was a twitchy whistleblower and she was the star of an 80's gangster flick. He didn't exactly know the paramaters of consent when one was missing a base emotion, but his conscience whispered that all mightn't be up to code.

He didn't feel good about this, was what he was trying to say. But he did it anyway, in the end. Got permission from Mr. Sandow to use the orchestra room after school as a set.

Zadie had felt uncomfortable about the whole thing, and Scot couldn't exactly blame her. It wasn't the most modern-day feminist-type thing to tart a friend up in skimpy clothes and pleaser heels. To bend her over a couple chairs, tie her down with scarves, and attach a sign declaring the prices her various... orifices would cost. ($10 mouth. $20 pussy...) 

Doug, wisely, had kept his mouth shut. He set up the mics and cameras, and he got to rolling.

At least the scene would be over and done with before lunch was out, and then they could focus on the more wholesome aspects of the film. Like blood. Good old blood.

...

Kinsey was in the _zone._

She felt sexy. She felt_ powerful._ She felt like she could stomp the world under her seven-inch heels. Her miniskirt was made of magenta polyurethane, and it made her legs look a mile long and her normally nonexistant ass look like desert. The fact that she wasn't wearing a bra only made her nipples poke out more through her sheer top. Her outfit was nothing short of outrageous, and it made the gaps in her brain where Fear used to live rattle and breathe and feel (almost) alive.

She would be so busted for this if anybody walked in. She could almost imagine the lecture her mom would give, should she get sent home from school for violating dress code... If not sent straight to the counselor's office, instead. They'd take one look at the sign taped to the chair ("Mouth: $10 - Pussy: $20 - Ass: $50"), and then... Well. Kinsey had had a school counselor for a father. She knew the kind of questions she'd be asked. _Is everything okay at home? What about that uncle of yours? He's never... Made you feel uncomfortable, has he?_

Never mind that Uncle Duncan was gay as the fourth of July, or that he'd sooner stab himself in both hands than hurt a child. He'd be the first person they thought to blame, simply because he was a man and he was there.

Kinsey pushed her thoughts aside and kept her focus on the scene; on the character she was playing. _Meridith Pringle. _Meredith was a down-on-her-luck hooker with a heart of gold, selling her body ("it's called 'sex work' now," Zadie had pointed out, offended by this entire subplot. "Sex workers don't 'sell their bodies.' They offer a service--"

Doug had argued that, since the movie was set in the seventies, their modern views were rendered null. Now, neither of them was speaking to the other.)

...

Tyler knew he had_ issues_.

He knew where those issues stemmed from. Addiction ran in families, and just like his mother, he just couldn't stop after he'd gotten started. Tyler drank too much and smoked too much and partied too much, but his true addiction was_ anger._ The rush of a fist thrown; a voice raised. The power he felt when a room silenced to _listen _to him, because he was big and he was loud and, when he told people what to do, they _did _it.

He told himself he wasn't cruel; wasn't abusive. It was just that people needed someone to take control, and he happened to be that someone. He was a leader-type, was all; that was just the way things were.

He'd been wandering the school for most of his lunch break looking for his sister. He'd wanted to ask if she could get a ride home from someone-- preferably a_ female_ someone. He didn't mind Scot _too _much, despite how tall and built the guy was, but _Gabe..._ There was something about that scrawny little creep that rubbed Tyler the wrong way.

Mr. Sandow himself had informed Tyler that Kinsey and the rest of the Savini Squad were shooting a scene in the empty orchestra classroom. It was cute that Kinsey and her nerdy friends kept making these dorkey movies... Tyler had unironically loved that terrible lobster thing they'd made. It hadn't won the contest like they'd hoped, but he knew they were still proud of their creation. He was proud of them, too.

He reached the music portion of the school without getting too lost. He'd never been musically inclined; had suffered through two semesters of pottery for his fine arts credit, and left the soundwaves for those with more talent than he. But he found it in the end. He peeked through the window on the door, grinning, hoping to see his sister doing something goofy. Maybe some more lobster beheading.

His grin quickly fell at what he saw. His smile became a snarl. Without a word, he threw the door open and strode inside. 

...

The demon known as Gabe chuckled inwardly, watching Rendall's spawn huff and puff like a wolf about to blow the house down. How red in the face he became. How righteous his fury. Someone should give him a white horse and a silver sword, for how proud and noble he viewed himself. A champion of justice. Little did Tyler Locke know what an irrational buffoon everybody-- precious sister included-- saw, instead. It was a comedy of errors worthy of Shakespeare.

It was hard not to burst out laughing when Kinsey tried to stand up, and became tangled in her bondage. She twisted to look over her shoulder as her brother raged. She didn't look so happy with the position she was in, now that it was her _brother_ staring at her thighs and ass. Not _so_ fun to play the little whore after all.

The demon was a superb actor, however. The best of the best. He delighted in its cruelties, certainly, but never at the expense of his cover. He kept Gabe's face blandly surprised, concerned; ever the dithering teenage boy, unsure of his place in the world. Help his girlfriend? Stay out of a family squabble? Run and save his own hyde? 

Tyler turned towards the unbound Savinis and roared at them. "Get out! If I hear of any of you _ever _even _talking_ to her again, you're fucking dead! Don't talk to her, don't look at her; no more fucking 'Savinis'."

Gabe, Doug, and Zadie ran for it. Scot, who would never be a knight, but who still cared more than most, lingered for half a heartbeat. "You shouldn't talk to her like that," he mumbled, trying and failing to remain affable. Likable. Scot's worst problem was that he genuinely cared whether people liked him. He took it hard when they didn't; saw it as a fault in himself. 

"When I want your fucking opinion, I'll ask for it, Kavanaugh," Tyler sneered, not tearing his eyes from his inappropriately displayed sibling. "Get out before I break your fucking stork-legs."

So much for a lionheart. Scot grabbed his camera and turned for the door. Gabe ran off before Scot could catch him spying.

...

Zadie must've been in fucking girlscouts, or something, because the knots around Kinsey's ankles were nigh impossible to untie. Tyler's hands were shaking with badly supressed rage, which wasn't helping matters.  
  
"Just cut the scarf!" Kinsey barked, shifting her weight. "You have scissors, don't you?"

Tyler squeezed her leg until she grunted in pain. When he let go, he saw that he'd left four white finger-marks on her skin that slowly faded back to a normal color, then darkened to red. "I _could_ just leave your stupid ass in here," he hissed through clenched teeth.  
  
"I wish you had! We were doing just fine without you barging in and embarassing me, you freak! There's a reason kids always say 'you're not my dad!' in movies. You _aren't,_ Tyler."

"Well, somebody needs to be your dad, and nobody else is gonna fuckin' step in and do it, so I guess it's _my fucking job__!"_ Tyler slapped her hard across the ass. The sound echoed a few seconds in the room designed to amplify sound.

There was a long silence. Then Kinsey began to thrash. She made to buck him, but her feet were still tied down. "You did _not_ just fucking _do_ that to me! I'll kill you!"

He wished she still had her fear. The old Kinsey would never talk to him like that. To shut her up, he spanked her again. The thin, shimmery material of her skirt did nothing to protect her. "Scream a little louder, Kinz! Maybe your precious Savinis will come to save you."  
  
Kinsey fell silent. She wasn't scared-- of course she wasn't scared; she literally had no fear-- but surely she was imagining what this would look like, if someone walked in. Kinsey, right in the middle of an empty classroom, hogtied and dressed like a slut, her own brother's hands on her ass. The Lockes were already viewed as the local freaks. They didn't need any more attention. What if it got back to Bode?

If she wanted free, Tyler would have to be the one to untie her. He was more likely to do that if she didn't put up a fuss. So she went limp and quiet, and he resumed his efforts on the scarf Zadie'd used on her ankles. There: first one loose, then the other. It was only looped, not tied, around her wrists, so it was easy enough to get her hands free.

Kinsey straightened up and looked her brother square in the eye, chin raised. She was angry. Humiliated, even. She set her jaw and, quick as a flash, decked him in the face. With a closed fist.

Tyler stumbled with the force of the punch, rubbing his jaw, looking steadily at his sister. She'd never hit him before, but then, he'd never _spanked _her before. He supposed they were now even. Kinsey rubbed her reddening hand, brow furrowed.  
  
"You're not supposed to tuck your thumb," Tyler said, nodding towards the way she held her fist closed. "If you'd hit me any harder, you could've broken a finger. It's better to hit with the heel of your hand; less fragile. Remember: skulls are way thicker than knuckles."

"Cool. Next time, I'll hit you the right way." There was an edge to her voice that Tyler didn't like.  
  
He reached for her hand. "Let me see."  
  
She took a hasty step back, then another, making for the pile of her backpack, her "normal" clothes, in the corner of the room. "Don't ever touch me again." It wasn't said in hysterical anger; but a certain, frosted finality. Kinsey meant what she said. She spoke as though Tyler had done something unforgivable; that he'd broken something bigger than a finger between them. His stomach squeezed in a tight, anxious knot.   
  
"Oh, don't be like that, Cricket," Tyler said placatingly, using the childhood nickname their dad had coined when she was little; just a happy little ball of buck-toothed blonde fuzz who sang constantly and hopped around everywhere she went. 

She ignored him. Continued to walk away. Tyler's anxiety grew. If he didn't get a handle on it, soon he'd be forced to lash out-- either at other people, or at himself. "Don't walk away from me, Kinsey!" he ordered. She ignored him.  
  
A thought occured to him. He glanced at Kinsey's messanger bag; the one she'd decorated herself with iron-on patches and beaded fringes and all the other weird Kinsey-things she occupied her time with. It was thick; boxy. And it was still the first half of the school day. She had no reason to carry textbooks around with her; not when she could store them in her locker. She must've brought the music box with her, again.  
  
Tyler was bigger than Kinsey. Tyler was athletic. Tyler had longer legs. Without giving it another thought, he ran past his sister and slid on his knees to her bag. He yanked the music box out and shook her bag, listening for the keys to jangle together, then fumbled until he found the tiny pocket she'd zipped them into.   
  
He dumped the small handful of keys out onto his lap just as Kinsey seemed to realize what he was doing. "No!" she barked, and ran to him. Lucky for Tyler, Kinsey had no idea how to run in heels like that. She wobbled and collapsed on all fours, grunting as her knees made painful impact with the hard classroom floor.   
  
Finding the key he'd been looking for, Tyler stuffed it into the music box and opened it up. "Kinsey," he ordered, heart pounding in time to the little music box-ballerina's twirling. "Take those shoes off."

...

"Tyler, don't do this," Kinsey said, even as her hands sought to obey him without her consent. It was like being attached to puppet strings, watching her own body dance to his commands. She unbuckled the straps. Removed the heels. Set them aside.  
  
"Put your normal shoes back on," Tyler said. "Uh, socks first."  
  
Kinsey's body crawled the three paces to his side, reaching into her pile of clothing. "Wouldn't it make more sense to put my jeans back on first, genius?" she asked, sticking her feet into the nubby wool socks she wore to keep her toes warm. "I'll just have to take these back off when--"  
  
"No," Tyler interrupted. "No, you're keeping the rest of that on. You had no problem wearing it for your _friends_, so you can keep giving _me _a show, too."

Suspicion clouded Kinsey's mind. Anger. Discomfort. "You've made your point," she snapped. "Assuming that point was _'Tyler Locke is a control freak, and he thinks he owns the family.'_ You can quit playing God now."

"You know, Kinsey, copping an attitude is the last thing you should be doing right now. But sure, if you wanna keep digging a deeper grave, by all means."

Ooh, she _hated_ this. Hated when he took on that 'holier-than-thou' tone. That, 'daddy knows best' bunch of crap; as though he wasn't a bigger fuckup than all the rest of them combined. He was talking the way dad used to talk, though without any of the wisdom and empathy the other man had brought to the table. He was a stupid kid just pretending. 

Kinsey opened her mouth to say just that, but Tyler beat her to it. "I think I've heard enough from you," he said, steely-eyed. "Why don't you just... Shut up, Kinsey?"

Kinsey's voice failed. She opened her mouth to speak, and no words came free.

Tyler nodded. "Good. Now hold still."

If she'd still been able to feel fear, this was where she would've locked up in terror. She was voiceless and motionless and completely at the mercy of her sibling, and there wasn't a damn thing she could do about it. She couldn't even blink when her eyes began to water.

Tyler stood and began to gather up Kinsey's things, still carrying the music box with him. He stuffed her clothes, and the heels, into her bag, then reached a hand down to her. "Come on."

She took his hand. Followed him, mute and silent and incapable of disobedience, to the classroom door. Was Tyler going to make her step out into the hallway dressed like this? Her shirt was two sizes too small, with half the buttons open. She may as well have been naked.

Tyler reached down the neck of his shirt and fished out a chain, from which the Anywhere Key dangled. He inserted it into the classroom lock. "My bedroom," he ordered, and opened it. 

The two of them walked through to Tyler's semi-messy room; all college brochoures and dirty laundry and sports equipment scattered every which way. Tyler shut the door, retrieved the Anywhere Key, and pulled Kinsey into his bedroom, then left her to stand motionless in the center of the room. He set her stuff down and took a seat on the desk chair. "Come here, Kinsey."

Kinsey approached. She still couldn't speak, but she tried to convey with her eyes just how furious she was. How much she'd make him suffer when she again had control of her own body. Was this how Eden had felt, back in the cafeteria? If so, Kinsey had a lot of apologizing to do.

She stood before him and allowed him to take her hands, becoming uncomfortably aware of his eyes on her body. Her chest. Her legs. Surely he was still trying to make the same stupid point. Tyler wasn't weird_ like that._ Tyler had had plenty of flings and girlfriends. He was handsome; popular... Why would he ever...

"Get on my lap, Kinsey."

Kinsey's body obeyed. She wasn't entirely sure what he meant, so she sat with her back to him, perched on his knees, fuming and red-faced.

"Not like that," Tyler corrected patiently. "Get on my lap so that I can give you a spanking." 

The worst part of the Music Box Key's compulsions was that it didn't leave any time for the command to sink in. One moment, she was hearing the words. The next, her body had done what it was told. She lay facedown over her brother's lap, staring at the carpet. She flinched when Tyler touched her ass, rubbing in slow circles. Anger and humiliation brought tears to her eyes. She wanted to scream at him. Didn't he know that it wasn't okay to touch her there?! This was assault! 

"Shh," he whispered. "Calm down; it's okay."

Maybe he hadn't meant for it to be a compulsion, but it was just the same. Kinsey's entire body went limp. A numb, blanketing calm overtook her. She wasn't even allowed to feel her own emotions, apparently. Not even when he touched the zipper on the back of her skirt and pulled it down with a hiss of teeth. Not when he pushed the skirt, and her panties, to the floor, leaving her bare before him.

"I wish I didn't have to do this," Tyler said. "But you really didn't give me any choice. You've just been completely out of control lately. I hope this helps you improve." 

...

He started out with a few warmup spanks, just like dad used to do. Dad always had such a calm air of absolute serenity when he disciplined his children, so that was what Tyler tried to do to Kinsey. First he only tapped his sister's bottom; then he started connecting harder. He watched the fair skin of her little butt pink under each clap. By the time he was done with her, she'd be as red as the cherry slushes from the gas station.

"You're a good girl, Kinsey," he reassured, adjusting her and putting an arm around her waist to keep her in place. It was a little strange that her legs didn't kick with every strike-- man;_ he'd_ sure squirmed and kicked and hollered while dad taught him lessons!-- but, after all, he _had_ told her to stay still. "I just need you to start acting like it again. If we're not a team, the whole family will fall apart."

He rubbed her ass again to test how hot it was. It was warm, sure, but hardly blistering. He upped his game, actually putting some elbow into it. _Smack! Whack! _

Finally, a sound. A whimper. Good; at least he knew she was paying attention. He happened to glance up, then startled when he saw the angle of her butt he got from the mirror on his closet door. With her legs parted for balance, he could see the lips of her pussy over his knee; the soft blonde curls of hair that framed it. He had a hard time looking away once he'd noticed it. Never before had he ever seen his sister's little cunt. Not since they were toddlers being washed in the bathtub together.

Whatever; he'd seen pussy before. Plenty of it. It wasn't particularly noteworthy. So why did his gaze keep returning to it, again and again? Why did his spanks become strokes; rubs; until he was blatantly massaging her ass; squeezing the cheeks and pulling and-- and looking at her puckered little asshole in the mirror, too? Staring, even.

Pretense forgotten, Tyler dropped both hands to her thighs and pushed her legs open for a better angle. "Push your hips out," he told Kinsey, distracted, and she opened up like a flower for him. In the mirror, he saw it all; her butthole. Deep inside her pussy, where soft pink labia gave way to a deeper mauve hole.

Kinsey made a little sound in her throat. There was no way she didn't know what he was doing now. What he was seeing; thinking.  
  
Who was he kidding? She'd never forgive him for any of this. What did he have to lose, at this point? "Stand up," he told his sister. She obeyed. Unlike before, she wouldn't meet his gaze. Didn't try to communicate her rage. When he tried to make eye-contact, she closed her eyes, shutting him out. "Take off your top."  
  
She did. She wasn't wearing a bra underneath. He'd known she wasn't, and still it caught him off guard. How was it that she was so small? Her tits were little mosquito bites, compared to what Eden Hawkins kept tucked away in her sweater. Where had Tyler inhereted his large genes from, when the rest of his surviving family was so petite? He swallowed at the sight of her puffy pink nipples. "Sit on the bed, and keep your legs open."  
  
She obeyed. She didn't open her eyes once.  
  
"Show me your clit."  
  
She pulled the lips of her pussy open and drew a finger down, rubbing lightly at the little pearl still hidden under its hood. The sight of her touching herself on his bed was doing insane things to his pulse. Every line he crossed just opened the door for further lines. There was no stopping now; what would be the point?

"Stay still," He repeated his command from before, and came to stand between Kinsey's legs. He pushed her hand away, sucked his fingers to get them wet, and reached down to touch her.  
  
He pushed a finger inside her, meeting resistance. He reminded himself that she was probably a virgin, and calmed his efforts. Stroking inside her heat. Rubbing her clit with the thumb of his free hand. He worked slowly, smiling when her body started to dampen, and introduced another finger. "Don't talk," he told Kinsey. "But don't try to stay quiet, either. Mom's out with Detective Studmuffin again, so there's no need to hide it."  
  
Kinsey moaned, low, taking everything he gave her. She was fucked by fingers without being able to buck back; to writhe; to reciprocate in any way. Her clit was rubbed, and she couldn't say whether it was good or it hurt or it was too much or anything. She could only moan and hitch and sob, and Tyler had never been more turned on in his life. He ached and throbbed in his jeans. If only other girls could be like this-- could just trust that he knew best, and let him do as he would without comment.  
  
"Your butt is so red..." Tyler chuckled, when he pulled his fingers out of Kinsey and rolled her onto her stomach. "I hope you learned your lesson." He gave her a few more spanks and smiled at the whines and gasps this evoked. Ego stirred, he dished out a dozen more, each harder than the last. "You know how naughty it is to disobey me. But it's okay; I'll make you feel good anyway."  
  
Making sure she couldn't see him in the mirror-- he felt oddly shy, about his sister seeing his body and judging him in any way for it-- he unzipped his pants and drew out his cock, then situated himself between her open thighs. He gave himself a few vigorous pumps, then slowly guided himself into her pussy. She was tight; hot; slick... He hoped she was a virgin. The thought of her with another guy just pissed him off. Stupid Gabe. Stupid Scot.  
  
Kinsey whined when Tyler started fucking her. He tried to go at a speed she might like, but he was just too worked up. Barely giving her a second to adjust, he went hard. Something tore, and a thin trickle of blood ran down her thigh. Tyler hid a beaming smile. So she _was _a virgin! Good.   
  
"You feel so good, Cricket," he moaned, chasing his pleasure in her warm body. "So fucking hot... Oh, God..." He imagined all the things he wanted to do to her. He pictured her with her mouth on his cock. He pictured himself shoving fingers into her tight little ass while she squirmed and whimpered. _No, Tyler; not in there!_

"Fuck," Tyler panted. "Fuck, I'm gonna come..."  
  
Dad had told him to always make sure the girl came first, and he usually stuck to that rule, but this was just Kinsey. He deserved this. It wasn't like she really wanted this to begin with. And it was still a punishment. Tyler let himself be selfish, just this once, and pressed her flat to his bed, filling her guts with his come. He was pretty sure she was on the pill-- something to do with cramps and period pain-- so he wasn't too worried about pregnancy.

Later, many minutes later, he pulled out. Rolled her back onto her back. Held her legs open and watched in pride as his thick white come started dribbling out of his baby sister's wet and bloody hole. No way anybody would ever be writing gross signs setting a price on _her_ ever again; he'd marked his territory first.  
  
Tyler sat back in his chair, a smile on his face. "Your turn," he said, by way of offering a huge treat. "Make yourself come for me, Kinz. I wanna watch."


End file.
